Abbeyford Remembered Read Online Free Page A

not?”
    â€œIt’s none of your concern,” Evan growled.
    Behind the curtain Carrie stifled a gasp. Despite Lloyd Foster’s friendliness, he was still Evan’s employer and she had never heard her father be deliberately rude to him before. But, even now, Foster took no offence. Reluctantly, Evan added, “I’ve an old score to settle. By rights, the Manor House should be mine!”
    â€œYours? How?” Foster’s tone registered surprise, but that was nothing to the astonishment Carrie, in her hiding-place, felt.
    â€œIt’s a long story,” Evan muttered, his voice now so low that Carrie could scarcely hear. “Just take my word for it. I aim to ruin the Trents and live there mesel’ – one day!”
    â€œWell, now, me boy,” Foster’s hearty laugh rang out. “I just might be able to help you there. I have plans of me own, don’t you know, and there’s something I want – very much – that maybe you could be helpin’ me .”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œAh, now never mind for de moment. Maybe in time we’ll both be gettin’ what we want.”
    â€œHmm, mebbe.” Evan sounded doubtful. There was the rustle of paper again as he refolded the map. “Shall we go and have a look at the land?” It sounded as if Evan were trying to change the subject now. Carrie heard him move towards the door and the curtain shook. She froze, holding her breath, fearful her father would come behind the curtain and discover she had been eavesdropping.
    Carrie heard the door slam and their footsteps move away from the shack and she breathed again. She waited some moments before moving from her cramped position till she was sure they had really gone. She thought about her father’s bitter words. ‘The Manor House should be mine … I’ll ruin the Trents and live there mesel’.’
    The picture of Jamie Trent, the tall, handsome young man on horseback she had met but once, came before her mind’s eye and inexplicably her heart began to beat a little faster at the thought of him.

Chapter Two
    Two days later, in the early afternoon, Carrie slipped away from the shack and, avoiding the railway workings, made her way across the fields and up the hill towards Abbeyford. She was determined to get to know her grandmother better, yet she had had the intuitive sense to keep her intentions secret.
    Carrie tapped at the cottage door with some trepidation, remembering the unwelcoming figure of the hunched cripple in the corner – her grandfather, and yet he seemed to bear such hatred for his son, Evan.
    The door opened and Sarah Smithson’s wrinkled face lit up with pleasure at the unexpected visit from her granddaughter. “ Come in, my dear, come in.”
    Carrie followed her slow-moving steps into the small back scullery where they could talk freely without the malevolent presence of Henry Smithson’s scowling face.
    â€œTell me about yourself, child.” Her old eyes roved over the girl’s lovely face, as if she would draw strength from Carrie’s youthful vitality.
    Carrie shrugged and smiled. “There’s not much to tell. There were seven of us children, but three died in childhood. There’s Luke – he’s twenty, the oldest.” A shadow flickered across her violet eyes, “but he’s not strong. Then there’s mesel’ – I’m eighteen. Then there’s Tom and Matthew – they’re fourteen and thirteen. They all work on the railway – with Pa. I help Ma as best I can.” She broke off and asked, “Do you know me Ma?”
    â€œI might. Is her name Lucy?”
    Carrie nodded.
    Sarah Smithson sighed. “ Yes, I thought so. Lucy Walters. She disappeared when Evan first left Abbeyford.”
    Carrie leant forward eagerly. “Grandma – will you tell me about me Pa? What caused him to leave home